A Ringwraith's Misfortune
by ElenweMorwen
Summary: This is the tale of the Ringwraith, named Bob, that Lord Elrond's scouts could not find. Poor Bob. It wasn't his lucky day.


**A Ringwraith's Misfortune **

By Elenwe Morwen and Aduial

**Disclaimer**: No matter how much we may wish it, we do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters involved. If we did, we wouldn't need so many loans for college.

Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

The Ninth Ringwraith, who for purposes of this tragic tale shall be called Bob, reflected that he didn't much care for horses. They were dirty and smelly and virtually impossible to ride in billowing black robes. Yet here he was, sitting on a horse, waiting to ambush a little hobbit who _should___already be a wraith under their control. Unfortunately, the First Ringwraith, who for purposes of this tragic tale shall be called Bill, managed to miss said hobbit's heart at point blank range. Bob briefly wondered how Bill had managed to become the leader. Bob's horse, Polly, stomped one hoof impatiently, startling a butterfly, which fluttered across the Road. Polly twitched. In horror, Bob suddenly remembered being assigned Polly. Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

**Flashback**

The Ringwraiths stood at attention. Sauron, speaking through the Mouth of Sauron (Who prefers to be called Wally), had just finished issuing orders to capture Baggins.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it – you really don't have a choice by the way, it just sounds good – is to find the hobbit _**Baggins**_ in a place called _**Shire**_. We have neither a description of _**Baggins**_, nor any notion where _**Shire**_ might be. You'll have to stop for directions. Hey! You can play Twenty Questions! Won't that be fun?!" Wall grinned at them.

The Ringwraiths stared. Wally went on. "Anyway, you need to capture _**Baggins**_ because he has a Ring. A very special Ring. The most speciallest Ring in Middle Earth! And why is it the most speciallest Ring in middle Earth? _**It's shiny! **_A hobbit is unworthy to have better bling than Lord Sauron the Great! (Also, a Man stole this particular piece of bling a long time ago, and Sauron wants it back.) Thankfully, it has the patented **Nazgul Tracking Mechanism (NazTrak)** so you'll be able to sense it.

"Now, you'll need mounts for this, so Lord Sauron the Great has hand-picked steeds for you."

Bob watched as Wally assigned the horses to his fellow Ringwraiths. Wally finally reached him. "This is Polly. She likes to chase butterflies.

"Well, that all folks! Have fun, brush your teeth, play nice with the other kids, don't forget to write –" Wally was cut of when the Second Ringwraith, Alfie, punched him in the head, effectively knocking him out.

**End Flashback**

Bob was jolted out of his flashback when, with a whinny of excitement, Polly gave chase. The butterfly fluttered aimlessly until landing on the hindquarters of a white elf-horse, coincidentally being ridden by a hobbit possessing a certain piece of bling. Bob felt like a fool, hanging on, muttering, "Chase the butterfly, no not _that_ butterfly, _that _butterfly! Dumb horse…" Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

Polly didn't like being called dumb. She began to weave around the other Ringwraiths, her previously smooth gallop suddenly bone-jarring. She was catching up to Bill and Molly, who did not enjoy being passed. As Polly sailed into the lead, Bob yelled, "Sorry! Butterfly!" in Bill's general direction. Bill grouwled and urged Molly faster. Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

As the white horse sped across the Fords of Buinen, the butterfly chose that moment to fly away. Polly stopped dead in her tracks, making Bob fly off, over her head, landing at the waters edge. Bob drew the line at water. He had already looked like a fool, with Polly chasing the butterfly, then earned Bill's wrath by passing him. He was not going to get wet. Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

Bill charged into the river, intent on passing Bob again, the other wraiths following blindly. Non of them were paying attention to the fire-wielding elf-lord behind them or the hobbit waving his sword around, pretending to know what he was doing ahead of them. Bob pouted petulantly as water kicked up by the horses landed on him. Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

Fire behind and water in front. Bob resolved to stay right where he was sitting, when a wall of water flooded the Ford, effectively drenching him. When the wave passed, Bob was still sitting there, sulking. He belatedly remembered that his robes were dry-clean only. Being soaked, they started to shrink. He was not too concerned. He had an extra set in the saddle bags. Bob looked around to find Polly was nowhere in sight. She had found another butterfly to chase. Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

Bob sighed. He had two choices: either find Polly so he could change, or walk back to Mordor in a hooded black mini dress. This was not much of a choice. Bob started to track his insect-obsessed horse. He also vaguely remembered Sauron's threat if they lost their mounts. Something about mutant flying monsters… Bob was terrified of heights. Poor Bob. This wasn't his lucky day.

**Fine**

**Author's Note:** And so this is what happened to the Black Rider that Elrond's scouts could find no trace of.


End file.
